Shades of Grey
by xfphile
Summary: Not all situations are black and white. Sometimes, they only exist in shades of grey.


Slightly (okay, very) long author's note: This is a . . . call it an experiment, in playing devil's advocate. My personal opinion on the matter will not be expressed and I don't care what anyone else's is with regards to gay rights. This is a writing exercise, to see if I could write a piece about such a volatile subject without it devolving into a bitchfit (on any side). I chose this fandom because of the ones I frequent, The Avengers has one of the most - defensive, I guess, fanbases when it comes to slash, and I'm tired of seeing the *fear* a lot of people have over expressing a non-homosexual POV, so I thought I've give 'not afraid to express an opinion' a try. Hopefully, I succeeded.

This story is not intended to offend, insult, or anything else to any person or group, so please review accordingly if you're so inclined. If you hate my style of writing, awesome. Let me know. If you're going to tell me that I'm *insert derogatory term*, don't. As I said, this is an exercise in perspective, nothing more. I have tried to be respectful to both sides of the debate and I'm requesting the same respect in any responses. Thank you.

_**Shades of Grey**_

It was the quiet, slightly tense – though not strained, much less an argument – conversation that first caught Natasha Romanova's attention as she passed the communal kitchen on the Avenger's common floor en route to the gym they all shared. She recognized Tony Stark's voice immediately, though it took a few seconds to identify Pepper Potts as the other participant. Fond exasperation tinged her words, but the tension remained, more prevalent on his side. Curious, Natasha changed course and fetched up against the closed door, taking a few seconds to filter out every sound but their conversation, and listened.

" – ery year, Pepper. And every year, I tell them 'no.' Is there seriously not a 'no call' list that I can get on when it comes to donations, support, and their attached groups, because I'm sick of this. I never _have_ said 'yes,' I'm not _going_ to say 'yes,' and you've known this for years," Stark said tightly, with an aggressive undertone. "In fact – why are you asking me this? You know my answer isn't going to change, so what gives?"

Natasha was surprised to hear embarrassment color Pepper's reply – overshadowed though it was by frustration.

"I _did_ tell them, Tony, but apparently they've gotten a new PR rep and she won't take my word for it. I was informed that, unless you specifically tell them 'no,' it doesn't count."

There was a beat of stunned silence after that, which Natasha completely understood – her eyebrows had shot up on hearing it, so she could only imagine what Stark had made of it. After nearly a minute, Stark choked out, "You – you're the _CEO_ of Stark Industries, with full Power of Attorney, but they won't take your word? Who the hell do they think they are?!"

A sigh that Natasha attributed to Pepper was issued, followed by, "Someone who's new to the job and trying too hard?" Resignation was in her voice, because she (and Stark and Natasha) knew full well that it was no excuse for the sheer rudeness (not to mention the presumption), a fact that Stark confirmed he was well aware of.

"I don't give a damn if she's Bill Gates! You're the CEO of SI so your word is law. On that one time in 3 million that you don't know what law I want, you ask and we go from there. And if GLAAD thinks they're going to change my mind by insulting the head of my company – _**never mind my fiancée**_ – then they've got another think coming!"

It took a few seconds for the words to sink in, but once they did, Natasha saw red. Without stopping to think, she shoved open the swinging door and barged into the kitchen, her expression thunderous.

Stark and Pepper both blinked at her, but it was a testament to the lives they led that that was their only reaction. Stark recovered first.

"Natasha?" he asked, concern replacing the anger in his eyes. "What's wrong?"

The fact that he had no idea only pissed her off more and thus, her response was more vitriolic than it would otherwise have been.

"What's wrong?" she spat, glaring at him. "What's wrong is that you're denying an entire subset of the population their rights, _that's_ what's 'wrong.'"

Again, there was a moment of shocked silence . . . and again, it was Stark who recovered first.

"I'm sorry, what?" he demanded, an emotion Natasha couldn't identify flashing in his eyes as he clenched his fists. "I'm really hoping I misheard you, Agent Romanva."

He stopped there, clearly intending his pause to be a rewind moment. His use of her title hadn't escaped her, nor had the bite in his voice. She simply ignored them.

"No, you didn't," she shot back, pinning him with a hard glare. "How _dare_ you tell GLAAD that you won't support them? Do you _know_ what your backing would do for gay rights in this country?"

Stark's response surprised her.

"Not a damn thing," he said quietly, the anger fading from his expression. "But –" he continued, talking over her with the ease of long practice, "even if it did, I would tell them 'no.' I don't approve of homosexuality, Agent Romanova, and while I won't openly condemn it – because it isn't my business – neither will I support it. And that is both personally and professionally."

(Stark's response also enraged her)

"So," she said after a few minutes of fraught silence. "You're okay with telling a group of people – humans – that their lifestyle is invalid and that they don't deserve to have the option of getting married or being acknowledged in any legal way."

He said nothing and she scoffed. "You know, I always knew you were an ass, Stark, but I didn't think you were a bigoted bastard, too."

"That is enough!"

Pepper's entrance into the conversation took her off-guard and she twisted a bit to look at the other woman – who was currently flushed red with anger and holding her boyfriend's (fiancé's, and wasn't _that_ surprising) arm in a death grip, glaring at Natasha.

"How dare _you?" _she continued hotly, leaning forward a little. "What Mr. Stark does as the head of R&D – not to mention co-CEO – of his own company is none of your damn business – and just who the hell do _you_ think you are, telling him what opinion he may or may not have personally?!"

The other woman's vehemence surprised Natasha and it took her a moment to marshal her thoughts. "Because it's wrong," she answered sharply, a little astounded that she was having this conversation with Tony Stark, of all people. Steve would have been her bet.

"Says who?" the man in question drawled, his composure back. But Natasha wasn't fool enough to disregard the cold anger still in his eyes, or the tension that gripped his deceptively lean frame.

To her annoyance, Natasha didn't have an answer, and in typical Stark fashion, he didn't wait for one.

"Look, I don't care if you're gay or whatever. It's not my business. But when you _make_ it my business, then I have a right to state my opinion. And my opinion is, I don't approve, so I'm not going to donate to or back your cause. There are several organizations that get this response, Agent Romanova. Did you hear that while you were listening to a conversation that you were not only NOT invited to, but also had nothing to do with you? Or did you stop at the gay thing?"

Stark's voice held contempt in addition to the anger now and Natasha actually flushed . . . which was something that hadn't happened in years. Consequently, her voice picked up his contempt and returned it with disgust.

"It doesn't matter how I found out," she stated coldly, glaring at them both. "What matters is that you are a homophobic bigot an –"

"Excuse me?"

That was Pepper and the soft tone did nothing to hide her growing rage.

"Did you just tell someone that he's both homophobic and a bigot simply because he expressed his opinion _when it was asked for?_"

Natasha stood her ground.

"Yes," she said calmly and with conviction. "If you don't support homosexuality, then you're telling them there's something wrong with them."

This time, the stunned silence lasted nearly three minutes – and was broken by Bruce Banner.

"That's your point of view, Natasha," he remarked quietly as he moved into the room. "Sorry for interrupting," he told Tony and Pepper with a wry smile, "but it was getting loud and kind of obvious, so naturally I came."

Tony snorted, but there was no humor involved. Bruce noticed and his own expression hardened a little as he came to his friend's side and look at Natasha.

"And in answer to your statement, Natasha, not everyone feels that way. And they're allowed," he said before she could voice her instinctive protest. "If that's the way you feel, then great. More power to you. But no one is obligated to agree with you. I know you smoke, but there are a few groups and companies out there who are trying to make smoking illegal – are you going to support that?"

"It's not the same," Natasha rebutted sharply, glaring at him now instead of Stark. "Smoking is something people _do._ Being homosexual is something people _are._"

"So you say," Pepper interjected, nodding at Natasha's startled look. "And that's fine. No one is saying you can't have your opinion, Natasha, only that your opinion is not the only one that is valid."

Stark spoke up then, and for the first time, Natasha saw the man who had not only survived months of torture but the betrayal - on every level - of one of the few people he'd trusted. She felt a glimmer of respect for him (grudging though it was), even as it infuriated her more.

"So, I'm done with this conversation," he somehow announced to the room at large while staring at her. "And I'm going to the workshop. Pepper, tell GLAAD 'no' and if they give you another ounce of grief, tell 'em I'll subsidize Chick-fi-la for the next 5 years. Jarvis, make a note," he added as a quick afterthought, glancing at the wall by the fridge.

"Done, Sir," that smooth British voice intoned.

"Good. And if that 'keep the water pure' place calls again, set their corporate desktop and screensavers to whale porn. SI is already doing our part to clean the oceans up."

"Indeed, Sir. Should I make it the same picture for everyone?"

Bruce snorted at that, which broke a little of the tension. Stark gave a quick grin before answering his A.I.

"Hell, no. Go wild, make it a different picture for every station, and rotate 'em out every ten minutes."

Moment of (unintentional) levity over, he looked at Natasha, his lips thinning.

"As for you, Agent Romanova, I don't care who or what you support, but if you're thinking to suddenly start having gay support meetings here: no. You will not."

Affronted, Natasha took a breath, but someone else actually asked the question.

"Why?"

It was almost comical how everyone in the room turned to gape at Steve Rogers, who was – judging by his choice of clothes – heading to the gym.

"What's wrong with Nat showing her support for homosexuals?" he asked, his voice holding nothing but curiosity.

Pepper answered him.

"If so much as a hint of support is shown in this tower – or, indeed, any location affiliated with or associated to Tony or Stark Industries – it will be taken as tacit approval of that cause, which will effectively lock us in to something we might not wish to do."

Natasha scowled at the reminder, and it deepened at seeing Steve's understanding nod and Bruce's supportive stance. Before she could express her displeasure, Stark gave Pepper a quick, soft kiss, fist-bumped Bruce, and gently punched Steve on the shoulder on his way to the elevator. Being Tony Stark, of course, he didn't leave without the last word.

"I'll overlook your 'eavesdropping' this time, Agent Romanova," he said quietly (which naturally drew the attention of everyone else in the room), "and in the future I will endeavor to be more discreet about my business affairs."

Here he paused and gave her a cold, hard look.

"But if you _ever_ butt into affairs that do not concern you with respect to myself, my company, or my fiancée, you will regret it. Just because you know how to kill a man 100 different ways with a paperclip doesn't mean you're all-powerful or exempt from the consequences."

Because he was Stark, he also had to have a dramatic pause.

But it wasn't as amusing as it usually was.

And then he continued.

"Remember," he continued in that same quiet tone, "I wasn't called the Merchant of Death because it rhymed. Also, I am Tony fucking Stark. My house, my company, my rules. If you want to support the whales, or oceans, or gays, or Chinese sweat shops, or jump ropes, awesome. Knock yourself out. But you will do it with your name, not mine, and in your space. Do you understand that?"

Shocked speechless at that last bit (never would she have suspected Stark had that kind of steel in his spine), Natasha swallowed and nodded. He searched her eyes for several seconds before nodding.

"Good," he said curtly before stepping into the elevator and asking Jarvis to pull up a project.

Another fraught silence filled the kitchen for a couple of minutes before Pepper stirred and pinned Natasha with an icy glare.

"I know you don't particularly like him, and I can even understand why," she started, her voice clipped, "but if you _ever_ speak to him that way again, it won't be Tony you have to worry about."

And with that, she spun on her heel and stalked off, giving Steve an apologetic look and Bruce a tremulous smile before leaving the room.

Both men watched her go before turning back to her, identical frowns on their faces. Another minute or so of silence passed before Bruce sighed.

"I'm sorry, Natasha, but I'm with Tony on this," he told her, absently rubbing the back of his neck. "You don't have to like his opinion, or agree with it, but telling him his personal opinion is _wrong?_ You'd eviscerate anyone who did that to you, so get over your double-standard and grow up, because I do not ever want to do that again."

Feeling hemmed in (also, persecuted), Natasha struck back.

"And what's your opinion on the matter, Dr. Banner?" she coldly demanded, refusing to let him look away from her. To her surprise, he remained calm and composed, and kept eye-contact easily.

"Ask me again and I'll tell you, Natasha, but be sure you want to know," he said evenly, no hint of . . . anything, really, in either his voice or expression.

For a moment, Natasha considered pushing the issue, but she wasn't stupid, so she gave a quick shake of her head, to which Bruce nodded before heading to the elevator as well.

That left just her and Steve, who was looking intently at her.

"I'm sorry," she murmured, glancing down. "It just took me by surprise. I mean, it's _Stark_. His picture is in the dictionary next to 'hedonism!'

"I won't disagree," Steve answered with a slight grin, "but it was still uncalled for. Has he ever, by word or deed, indicated his stance on gays?"

About to issue a sharp retort, Natasha blinked at the question and thought back to the very beginning of her association with Tony Stark. After several minutes of very thorough recall, she was reluctantly forced to admit that he hadn't.

"Exactly," Steve said with a nod. "And unless he does to the detriment of a life, this cannot – WILL NOT – become an issue. Because if it does, Natasha, I will go to Fury."

Her head snapped up at that, shock and anger battling for supremacy at the edict. Captain America looked steadily back at her.

"I mean it, Natasha. It's his opinion. And as you well know, Tony and I have differing opinions on everything under the sun – including the sun, sometimes," he continued. "And it's frustrating, and there are some things we do not talk about, but we still make it work. If you – and Tony – can't do the same, then something will have to change."

There was a beat of silence, before – "And that's _my_ final word," he stated firmly, not relinquishing her gaze. Because she was an adult (and not stupid, or an idiot), Natasha nodded her acquiescence. Steve nodded back and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge before leaving the kitchen via the door closest to the gym.

Alone in the room, Natasha felt reaction finally setting in, and she gripped the back of a chair with hands that were trying to shake. A gentle touch on her shoulder confirmed her suspicion that Clint had been there, likely the whole time, but the fact that he hadn't made an appearance was all she needed to know, and she shrugged him off.

Well, she tried to. He ignored her and instead wrapped himself around her from behind, hugging her close to his chest. She could have escaped him any number of ways, causing any amount of pain, but didn't.

Instead, in the artificial brightness of the kitchen, Natasha Romanova let herself lean on the one person who was frequently diametrically opposite her own views . . . and who never once failed to support her regardless.

So she let him support her.

~~~~~  
_finis_


End file.
